99 Stars and Maybe One More
by Fauning
Summary: The blue in Winry's eyes always reminded him of the flowers that would crop up in springtime, the hydrangeas that grew in Pinako's yard, and the sky after the last of the clouds had blown away and left a blue canvas above their heads. Lots of beautiful things reminded him of Winry, but none ever seemed just as breathtaking when he looked at her. 100 EdWin prompts. Art by minuiko.
1. Dresses

**lets rock and roll**

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_Dresses_

"I don't see the point in going to this stupid after party." Edward mumbled from his spot on the bed, blowing a wisp of bang away from his eyes. "I mean, we went to the wedding. What's the use of another gathering?"

Winry paid his mumblings no heed, too busy unzipping the back of a dress. Finally she managed to get the zipper wrangled down enough to step into it, and she heaved a sigh before moving to put it on. "Ed, you've known General Mustang for at least 9 years now, I don't see why you're being such a baby about going to he and Riza's afterparty."

Ed made a noise of distaste, sitting upright on the bed to glare at his wife's back as she stepped into her evening gown. "You're only saying that because you're friends with Miss Hawkeye."

"Mrs. Mustang." Winry gently corrected, pulling her blonde hair out of the neck of the dress to lay it over her shoulder. She decided to keep going, cutting off any words her husband might offer in retaliation. "Besides, Riza and Roy stood in with Izumi and Sig as your parental units at our wedding. They're practically family by now."

Winry turned around, one arm twisted behind her to hold the top of the zipper in place. "We got married before they did, and they're much older than we are. It's about time they had some happiness of their own in their lives."

Ed looked sideways at the lamp on the nightstand, resigning himself to his lack of a retort. Winry breathed out, a small smile pulling the corners of her mouth upwards. "Now will you zip me up? We're going to be late for the toast."

The bed creaked as Edward stood up and Winry twirled around, putting her bare back to him. Brushing a wisp of hair away from the back of Winry's neck, Ed grabbed the zipper near the small of her back, the metal cold against his fingers. He pulled it up, dragging his knuckles up against the length of her warm spine purposefully. Winry tensed at the tingling feeling, and Ed gave an accomplished smirk to the back of her head.

"Ed! You always do tha-" Said blond cut her off with a kiss to the nape of her neck, his breath fanning out over her neck as he drew away. Moving to stand beside his wife, Edward gave her a sidelong smile and offered his hand.

"'Bout time we got going, don't want to be late."


	2. Worry

**I got such nice reviews on the first chapter! I'm glad you guys enjoy the idea of this. I see edwin drabble fics all the time, so I was worried everyone would get bored with another one.  
**

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Worry:

The air of the room was cold, biting the cheeks and the tips of fingers with vengeance. The seconds were ticking by slowly, breaking the silence of the room with every click of the second hand. The soft wind that floated through the window stirred the curtains, moving the breezy blue fabric with every gust. Even with all these things to notice in the quiet hospital room, Winry stayed preoccupied with her book, too worried and soaked up in glancing up at Ed every few seconds to pay any attention to her surroundings.

When he finally gave a throaty sigh and started to wake up, Winry's head snapped up from the page she had been lingering on. She watched as Ed's hand wandered to his forehead, pushing away hair to touch clean bandages. He blinked several times before finally speaking, glancing up from his lap to look at Winry.

"How long have you been sitting there, Win?"

Winry was taken aback at how concerned he sounded, his light eyes not leaving hers. Instead of "How long was I out?" or "Where's Alphonse?" she got "How long have you been sitting there?" Was he worried he said something in his sleep? Realizing she was stalling, Winry pressed an answer out, the words coming out in more anxious than she anticipated. "About 5 and a half hours I suppose, I had a book."

Edward's eyebrows furrowed and Winry had a feeling he had quite a few questions. "What time did you take the train to Central?"

Winry made an attempt not to look sheepish, glancing sidelong at the tiled floor before looking back at him. "I took the night train."

Ed's eyes narrowed. "There's two. Please tell me you didn't rush down here on the midnight train after you got a call."

Finally Winry stood up, her face warming with embarrassment as she put an indignant expression on her face. "Why are you so worried about me anyway, you're the injured one, idiot!"

She heard Edward scoff, his voice offended. "I'm not worried! I'm just-" His sentence broke off lamely, leaving the quiet of the room to fill the space he had left in his words.

Winry turned around again, only this time to face him. Ed's face had gotten considerably redder, his arms crossed over his chest. Silence held for a few gracious moments before he spoke again. "I'm glad you came."

Winry gave him a small smile, hugging her book to her chest. Typical of him to worry about someone else before himself. "It was nothing, Ed."


	3. Late

Late:

Ed blew his hair out of his face, looking down at an asleep Winry. A few locks of cornsilk hair were sprawled over the mahogany of her desk, the rest draped over her shoulders and arms. A smear of grease marred the spot below her left eye, obscuring freckles and clashing with the pink tone of her cheeks.

Typical of her to finally work herself to exhaustion and fall asleep at four in the morning. Nice to see she hadn't changed any.

Heaving a sigh, Ed tossed his coat over the chair before leaning down, slipping one forearm under the back of her legs and bracing the other against her back. She stirred as he picked her up, her lips parting as her eyes fluttered open. If there had been any surprise Ed must have missed it, because she only shut her eyes again, resigning herself to being carried to bed.

"You'sure are home late." Winry's voice was quiet, some of her words slurring together.

Ed's eyes flickered to her face for a fraction of a second before he replied, pulling her bedroom door open with his foot. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Winry stayed silent, her drowsiness overtaking her ability to communicate. Ed shifted her in his arms, wondering how she felt so light in his arms compared to last time. Picking her up in Rush Valley has been no issue, but this time it felt much easier. Perhaps the Lieutenant was right, he was growing up just a bit. He didn't take the time to linger on it, or the fact she was falling deeper into sleep the longer he held her.

Bending down to set her down on the bed, Ed gently put her down on the mattress. Winry didn't move besides to unwind her arm from around his neck, quickly settling into her blankets. Leaning down again, Ed swiped his thumb against her cheek, removing the oil smear from her face before straightening.

He was halfway out the door when he heard Winry speak for the second time that night. 'Goo'night Ed."

A smile quirked the corners of his mouth upwards. "Goodnight Win."

Maybe the Lieutenant was right about him loving her too.

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**Fact: I'm actually a big baby who cries over edwin at least 14 times a day**


	4. Birthday

**THE EDWIN TRAIN HAS NO BREAKS**

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Birthday:

Summer brought quiet afternoons in the Rockbell/Elric house like the sun brought heat and the clouds brought warm rain. But along with all of those things, it brought Ed home for her birthday. Her birthday was the ninth day of June, and if there was one thing Edward Elric was adamant on besides getting Alphonse's body back, it was always making it back home for her birthday.

There was not one occasion in which he missed it, and even if he stumbled off a train two hours before midnight brought the end of the special day, you could count on him to bring her a gift before the clock struck twelve.

Thats why when the grandfather clock in their dining room chimed for the twelfth time in a row, Winry had to suppress a sigh. He hadn't called saying he wouldn't arrive, or that his train was late, or even that he broke his automail _again _and needed her to come save his sorry butt. Pinako had long retreated to bed, gifting her with yet another cup of tea before she climbed up to her room. Blowing over the rim of the teacup, the blonde pouted at the painted china like it was the reason for sorrow.

Glancing at the face of the cedar clock again, Winry repressed the sudden urge to call him, just to see if he was _alive. _

After another agonizing moment of wallowing in her sorrow, Winry stood, picking up her teacup. She was halfway to the sink when the sound of metal against wood rang out, making her heart skip a beat. She whipped around, discarding the teacup back on the dining room table as she rushed to the door. The blonde yanked it open, being greeted by a sheepish Edward outlined against the tall armoured form of Alphonse.

"Seven minutes isn't too late, right?" Ed mumbled, glancing sidelong at the doorframe to try and play off his blush of embarrassment.

Winry laughed, her worry and disappointment melting away. "No Ed, seven minutes isn't too late."

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**Fact: Edward Elric would rather lose his other arm than miss his mechanic's birthday. **

**Friendly reminder you _can_ request stuff, the list I'm using is very malleable, and I'd prefer to include some of you guy's requests instead of some of the words that hold no appeal to me. So send 'em in, and I'll do my best!**

**Have a good night and I'll see you this Friday! **


	5. Promises

Promises:

"Promise you won't get banged up too much Ed, alright?" Winry murmured as she adjusted the collar on Ed's jacket. Ed gave a sidling glance to the looming form that was Alphonse, pretending to ignore what she was saying before he pulled away. Winry's eyes flickered to his face, and he made eye contact with her for a split second before bending to pick up his suitcase.

"I promise I won't break myself or my automail, is that good?" Ed tossed back in response, turning to follow Alphonse out the door, his suitcase in hand. Winry gave a responding hum as the door swung shut, meeting it's hinges with a rattle.

Ed trotted down the stairs behind Alphonse, catching up quickly to stride beside him. The silence was only broken by the sound of the armour clinking, a sound Ed had long ceased to notice, but the tinny sound of Alphonse's voice broke the quiet after they had gotten a fair distance away from the Rockbell home.

"You know Brother, you shouldn't lie to Winry like that."

Ed turned to look up at his sibling. "Whadd'ya mean Al? I never lied to Winry."

Alphonse responded, his voice unfaltering. "We're gonna get hurt doing the stuff we do, it's a fact. You can't make promises you can't keep to her."

Ed kept his gaze trained at the ground as he tried to think of a response. Finally he resigned himself to a loss for words, and looked up at the dusty, well-worn path in front of them. "You know, next time I think I'll say 'I'll _try_ not to break myself or my automail, how's that?"

"Brother! Can't you take anything seriously for once?!"


	6. Feeling

Feeling:

Edward woke up to a face full of Winry's hair and the cry of an infant, which wasn't all unpleasant considering Winry always smelled like vanilla, but still a wake up call nonetheless. Winry gave a whimper as she rose to consciousness beside him. Ed was already untangling his legs from hers, the thick taste of sleep heavy on his tongue and the sound of Milly crying offering as background noise.

Setting his feet on the ground, the ex-alchemist tried to blink the sleep from his eyes, running a hand through his hair. Winry moved to start getting up, but Ed stopped her before she got far. "I got it Win, go back to sleep."

He leaned over to kiss her cheek, and Winry gave an acknowledging hum as he pulled away. "I love you." She murmured drowsily, and Ed let himself smile as he looked at her.

"I love you too Winry." He brushed her hair away from her face before he stood up, stretching as he walked towards the bedroom door. Milly's bedroom was right besides theirs. Edward being the worrisome father he is, wanted her as close as possible without being in the room herself, which he had mentioned before they decided their room was small enough without crib in it.

Ed yawned as he pushed open Milly's door, moving quietly towards the crib. Milly had stopped crying so loudly, probably running out of steam along the way. Ed bent to pick her up, cradling her over his shoulder as she hiccuped with tears. Once she had finished crying for good, settling into a quiet rhythm of breathing, Ed moved her to rest in the crook of his arm.

He took soft steps around the room, rocking her as she fell back asleep. It gave him a teary feeling, holding something so warm and trusting that was soft in skin and in mind. Ed breathed out, close to blinking back tears. The feeling always surfaced when he held her as she fell asleep. The feeling that made his eyes burn and his breath hitch. All of the guys at Central would probably laugh at him for saying such a mushy thing, but for some reason Ed had a feeling Hughes would understand the feeling.

It was a uniquely 'dad' feeling. He was sure Winry felt something close to it, maybe even more intimate than what he felt considering she was Milly's mother, but he felt like it was the rite of passage for parents. Holding your child and realizing that in your hands you hold a life that means as much to you as your own and that of your partner. The feeling of unconditional love.

Looking down at Milly, Ed decided to was time for both of them to go back to bed, and took slow strides back to the crib to set her down. He kissed her forehead, resting his lips there against her head for a long moment before laying her back down on her stomach and covering her with her blanket.

By the time he had crawled back into bed with Winry, she was fast asleep, and within a span of another few minutes, he had joined her.


	7. Hair

Hair:

Winry's fingers were nimble, working through a tangle in his hair with an ease Edward was jealous he lacked. He would usually just resort to yanking it out with a comb and a death wish, but when Winry was present she usually insisted upon fixing it herself.

"You know, you try putting it up in a ponytail more often." Winry murmured as she ran the comb through his hair one last time for good measure. A silence fell as she began to separate his hair into three parts, the distinct start of a typical braid.

Ed hummed back absentmindedly. "Maybe."

Winry tied off the braid with a rubber band she had on her wrist, wrapping the black band around his gold hair. "Done. You're free to go."

Climbing to his feet, he heard Winry putting the chair she had been sitting in back at the dining room table. He touched the braid at the nape of his neck. "You always do that so much better than I do." He mumbled bitterly, watching Winry turn around to face him.

Winry laughed and tossed the comb she had used from one hand to the other. "Feminine charm, I suppose."

The alchemist scoffed. "Not much is feminine about you, gear-head."

Ed barely had time to duck before the the tin comb that had just graced his head came hurdling back.


	8. Confessions

Confessions:

Moving seemed to be even more mountainous of a challenge than building the actual house was, considering neither of them realized exactly how many belongings they possessed until they were being packed for transportation.

Most of what Winry treasured was packed away in boxes of varying sizes in varying places, and she didn't realize how much of it was mementos and pictures until she had laid it all out.

One box held the letters and pictures from her parents during their time in Ishval, another contained some of her first automail projects, one had assorted papers and records from clients in Rush Valley, and anything else she could remember keeping.

Ed had taken a certain interest in watching her work on sorting it out, sitting across from her and a flood of junk and paper.

Winry skipped thoughtfully over the cedar chest containing the letters and pictures from her parents, deciding they had already been looked through times enough before. If Edward had noticed, he said nothing, which Winry was grateful for.

An hour had passed before she got to the last and most recent box; a wicker case with a snap lock. A smile tugged the corners of her mouth upwards, and Ed gave her a questioning look.

"What's in that one that's getting you in such a good mood?" Ed asked, eying the box with a look of suspicion. Winry laughed as she clicked the lock into the open position.

"It's all the small things you and Alphonse got me over the years." She said lightly, rummaging through the clutter of jewelery boxes and letters marked to "The Rockbell Household" until she paused, stopping on one envelope marked "Winry Rockbell" in Ed's familiar print.

Ed leaned over, about to ask what the matter was before he paused, realizing solemnly what it was.

He stayed silent as she opened it, unfolding the paper inside. Ed offhandedly noted the creases from where she had folded and unfolded the paper a multitude of times, but kept the thought to himself.

Winry read over the letter for a thousandth time, skimming to the end where it ended with a black smudge next to "Ed" at the bottom of the paper. Leaning over, the blonde gestured for Edward to look at the scribble of black next to his signature. "What was originally written there? I had always wondered, but I never got a chance to ask."

A hint of red tinted her fiance's cheeks, and Ed gave the letter another glance before he started to speak, a humored smile gracing his lips. "I had written several failed attempts to tell you how I felt about you that night, until I finally gave up and wrote a normal letter." Ed tapped a finger against the smudge on the paper before continuing. "That's where I slipped up and wrote 'Love, Ed' instead of 'From Ed.'"


	9. Letters

**The last one for the day, have some Elric brother feelings because I enjoy making myself and others cry. **

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Letter:

The day he and Al had come back whole was the day he had reread the letter. It was a promise he had made to himself a long time ago, one he knew would be fulfilled and if not by him, by Alphonse. The yellowed paper was set at the bottom of a desk drawer, kept flat by a photobook of pressed flowers Winry had given him long after the letter was written, long after Trisha had passed.

The paper was soft and the ink grainy from years of deterioration, but his mother's script was just as neat as it was the day she wrote it. Alphonse and Winry had read it with him, his brother at his right and his fiance at his left.

Reading the words aloud had stung Edward's throat, and he had to pause to gather himself before starting again several times. It had been no less than a few seconds after Ed had finished reading off 'From your loving mother, Trisha' that the tears were streaming freely down the two brother's faces.

Winry was the only one who refused to shed tears, deciding it was not her place to cry, but her place to comfort.

Edward did not look past the solace her hand on his offered.

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**Do you ever get really emotional over Trisha Elric? I do.**


	10. Innuendo

**I totally did not write this to the song Sunlight by the Bag Raiders. Definitely not. **

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Innuendo:

His hand burned pleasantly as it slid up her hip, contrasting with the chill of the air. Ed didn't let her linger on the feeling for long however, before long he was trailing kisses down the length of her throat down to her collarbone. Winry curled her fingers into the back of his shirt, her blush escalating to a burning flame in her cheeks and face.

Ed noticed as he moved back up to kiss her mouth, having succeeded in leaving a nice red mark on the side of her neck. He grinned at her in an accomplished manner that half made Winry want to leave him high and dry for the fun of it. "Little too much at once, Win?"

Winry looked away indignantly, "You're full of it Ed."

Ed ignored her pout, taking advantage of her exposed shoulder to place an open mouthed kiss there. He drew away, mumbling something against the skin of her neck. "You're about to be full of me too."

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**A'ight, I'm gonna be honest here and say I was pretty darn disappointed that for the second chapter in a row, there was only one person who reviewed the last 3 chapters. Please review guys, your reviews can determine how excited I am to write/post these. I want to be excited on update days too. **

**Anywho! I hope this moderately humourous, slightly smutty drabble will make you change your attitude about reviewing. **

**Remember! You can always request stuff! Hell request like 4 things, I'm happy to get them. I love you guys! See you on Thursday. **


	11. Sleep

**Hey guys! Guess what day it is today! _Update day_**

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Sleep:

Winry's breath was warm against Ed's collarbone, slow and steady in comparison to his maniacal heartbeat. The blond stole an ugly glance to Alphonse, who had his hands up in a mock retreat.

"I told you she was gonna fall asleep! Most likely on me too!" Edward whispered furiously, trying to stay quiet and still relay his fury through whispers. Alphonse only raised his hands higher in response.

"I was not going to let Winry sit alone, and you're warmer than I am, brother!" Alphonse whisper-yelled back from the other side of the train seat.

Ed glanced down at Winry, whose ponytail had fallen over her shoulders to rest over her collarbone. She was fast asleep, her head rested on Ed's shoulders and her upturned hand resting on his thigh. It was a serene position, and he was glad she was getting some sleep. She was always tired after leaving Central, especially when it was on call because he did something stupid.

Giving another angry glance to his brother, Ed put an arm around her to keep her close. Alphonse gave nor response, but he would have been lying if he had said he was surprised when Ed fell asleep too.


	12. Read

Read

The lines of text had just begun to blur by the time she had come in, the black ink of the page he was reading becoming fuzzy and blended with the rest of the paper. She was wrapped in a blanket, the blue one she never seemed to take off the bed except to wash, and her steps were just as soft as her hand on his shoulder.

"Ed." Her voice was almost indistinguishable from the sound of the rain pattering on the roof and Ed took a moment to wonder how long she had been waiting for him to come to bed before she came after him.

Feeling guilty, Ed glanced at the book, forming his excuse for being up so late. "I wanted to finish it before-"

Winry's hand slid down his arm to rest in the crook of his elbow, and she interrupted him with a grace she only possessed when she was sleepy. "There's no need to rush anymore Ed. You've done everything you needed and more. Just rest."

Ed breathed out, mulling over what she said for a few moments before flipping the book closed. The black text disappeared as the cover obscured it, and as the pages were hid from view, the blond began to grasp how tired he really was. Turning to stand from the chair, Edward grabbed his fiance's hand before leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. "You're right Win. Let's go to bed."

Sleepy or otherwise, she was right. There was no need to worry anymore.


	13. Grave

**Apologies in advance for this one.**

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Grave

Hughes' name still looked freshly chiseled on the granite, and Ed had no doubts that if he ran a finger against the words he would cut his finger on the sharp edges. The day was important in the most morbid of ways, the anniversary of the brigadier general's death and the only occasion in which both Ed and Winry would travel up to Central for a cemetery.

There were signs that others had been there that day for the same reasons. A framed picture of Roy and Riza on their wedding day was propped against the headstone, Roy's bad handwriting reading "I can't believe you missed out, buddy." A picture of Gracia and Eliza graced the grave as well, mingled amongst the flowers.

It had become tradition to put the pictures on the grave every year, and while one of the members of Mustang's group always gathered them up before it rained on them, no-one ever stopped putting them there. A picture of Ed and Winry's wedding day had sat for a long while, along with a photograph of Eliza's first sundress of the new year. The pictures were like a timeline of their lives for Hughes, and no-one ever skipped putting one down every year.

Sitting back on his heels, Ed added another picture to the mix, his contribution for the year. The glass framing the photo glinted as he set it down, and Ed stopped to look at it. Winry had Millie propped between the two of them, Alphonse and Mei settled on either side of them. Pinako had taken the picture several times to get it right, and Ed was glad after all the strain it took to smile so long was worth it.

Taking a breath, Edward stood up. Winry pressed against his side in response, her warmth contrasting against the chill of the autumn air.

"Are you alright?" She murmured, her gaze not leaving the lettering sprawled against the granite headstone.

Ed nodded, swallowing with some difficulty. "I will be."

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**I'm gone for days and I come back to you with _this._ I know. I'm horrible. I'll be back either tomorrow or Sunday for a couple more!**


	14. Joy

**911? yeah its me. i need an ambulance again. **

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Joy:

The baby was born with good lungs, Ed would give her that. Winry was the first to hold her, and Ed watched with gentle eyes as his wife pressed a kiss to the child's cheek, obviously overcome with more emotion than she could let out. Ed felt a rush of affection for her, for both of them, and the tightness in his throat worsened when Winry held the tiny baby girl out to him.

He worked his jaw, struggling for words to convey that _yes,_ dear god yes he would love to hold her. Even with his wave of powerful emotions, he hesitated taking her from his wife, something holding him back. After a split second Winry must have sensed it; because she gave him a weary yet beautifully sure smile.

"Take her Ed."

Ed nodded numbly as he took the soft newborn into his arms. He cradled her, feeling warm radiate from her tiny body. He managed to hold his composure for a moment, just long enough to formulate words. Ed glanced up from the baby's pink face just long enough to force a shaky sentence out of his throat.

"She's beautiful Winry."

Winry only smiled in response, watching one of the most powerful men on earth unravel at the sight of his daughter.


	15. Flowers

**I wrote a thing sorta like this for my original characters Bridget and Faolan, but flowers have been a favorite prompt of mine, and I always get more inspiration for prompts involving the pretty things. **

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Flowers:

Winry's favorite flowers were daisies, but even with her love for the simple white flowers, she could never push herself into buying them in bouquets to put around the Rockbell home. Smelling them wither and die and having to throw out the browned remains of the once beautiful blooms only made her sad. It was partially because she never liked throwing out things that had taken effort to retrieve, so gift bouquets usually stayed in the house longer than she would have liked out of sheer sentimentality.

But the largest reason she would pass by the vases of flowers in the market was her own grief. She had been the only one able-bodied enough to watch over her families bodiless graves, and every year that mourners came to visit it, she was the one to cart away the dead flowers after the weeks had passed and they were long forgotten. The thought made her depressed, and she learned to stride past the flower shops and not give them a passing glance in order to avoid temptation and future twinges of regret.

Ed must have noticed this over the course of his visits, because after he had long left for Central and Winry had returned home and hung her coat, she noticed the plain pot on the windowsill, white blooms peering over the red clay towards the sunlight. She had smiled then, realizing with a rush of affection that they were daisies.

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**I'm pretty sure when I'm 30, I'm gonna be in counselling because I still won't be able to let go of this ship. **


	16. Resolve

**I'll be updating a lot more frequently now. I plan on throwing myself into my writing, since a lot of other good things in my life kinda fell through. **

**Shoot me some prompts, and give me something to do, will ya?**

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Resolve

The pain was agonizing, fiery and all consuming, and Ed choked back the urge to just let himself pass out. Surely death would hurt less than a pipe through his hip. Surely.

He made an attempt to ignore the feeling of every individual grain of dirt against the side of his face, and the burn of the cold against the other side. He succeeded, only instead his mind flickered to the throbbing mass of pain that was the spot between his hipbone and his stomach, and he suddenly had the overwhelming urge to vomit.

Ed shut his eyes, focusing on the slow, shallow breaths he had fallen into a rhythm of taking every second or so. Winry would hate him if he died. She had made it through discovering she was a hostage. She had made it through facing her parent's murderer. She had made the decision to travel with Scar when he couldn't even fathom the thought.

Winry had made the decision to stick around even when he couldn't remember to call.

The least he could do now was stay alive.

Mustering his resolve, Ed let himself start small and tried to twitch his fingers. He had to move, he had to move before his body let itself get too dependent on the support of the ground. Forcing his fist into the dirt, he pulled his upper body off the stone floor of the mine shaft, cursing inwardly when his body reacted in protest.

"I won't make her cry, especially not over something this stupid."


	17. Hands

**I was excited for this prompt, to be honest. **

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Hands

Winry liked his hands, both of them. They were calloused and rough and much larger in comparison to hers, and she loved them. It was never because of the aesthetic appeal, or the fact they were the same hands that had once saved Amestris, not in the slightest.

It was the way he held her hand whenever things got still and quiet. It was the feeling of his hands sweeping back her hair when he thought she was asleep. Maybe he did it to get it out of her face, maybe he did it to get a better look at her, she never asked.

It was how he'd cradled her cheek the night he and Alphonse came home; after everyone had gone to sleep save the two of them and all she could do was cry tears of relief. It was how delicate he managed to be when he'd simply hugged her, his blessed hands moving to sift through her hair and settle at the base of her spine as she sobbed into his shoulder.

It was the way he held her face the first time he ever kissed her. It was how his fingers danced lightly along her jaw as he pulled away, his eyes half lidded and his lips stumbling over the words 'I love you.'

There was a lot of reasons Winry Rockbell liked his hands, but it was never because of what they did for the world, it was for the smaller things they did that he never thought she'd notice.


	18. Alternate-Golden

**Okay so, the prompt list I'm using has several prompts that had (Alternate) and I finally got to one of them, so have a edwin au where Ed gets drafted and has to leave Winry. Because _obviously_ I'm just a ray of _goddamn _sunshine. **

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Alternate- Golden

All she saw was gold. The army-green duffel he had slung over his shoulders wasn't of her concern, nor were the purple circles under his eyes or even the angry red cut snaking out from under his jaw. All that mattered was the amber of his eyes and the spun gold shade of his hair. The duffel was dropped onto the ground like a burden long forgotten the moment her name left his chapped lips, and Winry Rockbell slowly realized she was crying.

He stooped to hold her, deciding not to bother with the words sticking and dying in his throat as her fingers curled into the folds of his uniform. They crumpled downwards to the white tile floor together, Winry letting a sob tear from her lungs only to be muffled by Ed's chest. Her breath hitched and every breath she took felt like fire and shards of glass in her lungs, but for some reason it didn't matter because Ed was there and tangible.

For nine months he had been nothing but letters and grainy phone calls from unlisted numbers. For nine months she'd dreaded picking up the phone or answering the door out of sheer fear of him going from those things to a eulogy in the town paper. For nine months, she had waited for the military to finally give him back to her.

Winry had a reason her favorite colour was gold, and after nine long months, he had finally come back home to her.


End file.
